


Fireworks + Family

by GeekyNightOwl1997



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Fireworks, Fourth of July, Gen, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-06-07 18:40:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19475035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeekyNightOwl1997/pseuds/GeekyNightOwl1997
Summary: This is a little one shot, of what Jack thinks about his family and how they saved his life as they sit around the firepit around the fourth.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N:  
> This is super cheesy, but it's the fourth and I wanted to do a fic where they got to celebrate the 4th. It's also probably trash too and doesn't make sense... I literally just wrote it. 
> 
> 2 A/N:  
> Sorry for any OCCness, spelling and grammer mistakes. I don't own 'Macgyver'or any of the characters.
> 
> ***side-note:  
> This was orginally gonna be a PTSD one shot, but I just- I couldn't bring myself to actually write it... I know it's tough for some soldiers to celebrate the 4th... but I do appreciate everything they sacrificed for the this country!

Jack loves his country, he does. He loves watching the parades and watching the little children pop those fireworks. He loves the smell of burgers and ribs on the grill. He loves having that cold beer in his hands and that shockingly hot weather that causes the sweat to just drip. He loves going to Mac's house to find the whole house full of the good ole USA. Loves to see a Bozer pushing Mac away from the grill and the blonde handing him a beer. 

Jack honestly loves the 4th. It's a good reminder of what he fought for. What he spent years doing across the sea with a gun in his hands. Is he proud of all the deaths? No. Not all of them. Some of those shots seemed to tarnish his humanity. Other shots he didn't take, well… he doesn't want to talk about that. The 4th of July is a holiday he loves and before he met this ragtag team of misfit geniuses, he often wonders how he survived. 

"Jack?" The older teammate looks up, there is a beer waiting for him. With a smile, Jack takes the offered beverage. The young woman smiles and takes her seat. She doesn't say anything, simply just sits and places her own bottle to her lips. Jack pops his lid off and takes a swig himself. 

The thought comes back. 

_ How did I survive? _ He asks himself. As his eyes roam around the back yard. And he realizes that Riley was a major part. 

Yes, he walked away from her and Diane. Yes he beat up her dad, and figured that she wanted nothing from him. That didn't stop him from ever having the desire to get back. To come back to the states alive. Part of him always wanted to reconcile with her. Though he didn't know how. Afterwards he thought he had messed up. Figured whatever happened, was meant to be and he'd never get his chance. Especially when he was handed a certain blonde who lacked self- preservation. Jack loved Riley like his own daughter. He always had and would always will. There was no way he would let her die, not if he had something to say about it.

But that blonde kid who, he called son, was going to be the death of him. Sure they had a rocky start. The brat touched his gun. That was a big no-no, but then he saved his life. Mac saved his life, and he didn't have to. Told him that he wasn't a lost cause. Jack wanted to snort and tell him that he didn't know what he was talking about, but the kid had the look in his eye. Like he knew. Jack would be grateful to the kid. Always.

Jack came back for another tour, for him. To make sure he got home too. It was a selfish reason:

_ The Delta had been on the plane, ready to be home, it wasn't a good idea. Because Jack was alone and when the Texan was alone, he thought. He started remembering everything that Mac had done for him. The way the kid snorted at his jokes, never made him think he was just a dumb guy with a gun. How he did his job carefully so both could go home. And maybe the kid wandered off sometimes, but he always had a good reason. It was like he had some sort of "spidey-sense" for the bombs. _

_ Then Jack started getting bad ideas. What if-what if his kids next Overwatch isn't as patient? What his kids next Overwatch is a jerk?  _

_ Then Jack stopped. Since when was Angus "Carl's Jr." Macgyver  _ **_his_ ** _ kid? _

_ Jack knew what he had to do. He ran off the plane and went to command. _

********

Jack huffed a laugh to himself. The decision to stay in the Sandbox was a selfish one. His family wanted him home, but when he explained to his Ma about the blonde boy who seemed to have a death wish, well… she understood. She smiled and told Jack to do his job. Jack nodded and told her he'd do his best. 

Watching Mac now, who at the moment was adamant with his hand movement, talking to Jill about some odd thing, Jack smiled. He was going to do his job, even if it kills him. 

"Don't think too hard, Jack. You don't have a lot of brain cells left." Matty's snarky voice reached his ears and all attention went to the two of them. By now this makeshift family understood one another. Understand the sarcasm and Jack smiled.

"I don't Matty, isn't don't those things grow back." Jack asked, as the women took a seat. She rolled her eyes, but there was a hidden smile in her eyes.

"Maybe Mac needs to teach you Biology."

There was a snort from the grill, "I think he might want a different, teacher. That's the one science Mac doesn't understand."

Jack smiled, he should've known when he adopted the blonde kid, he would gain another misfit. Mac's best friend had done wonders for both of them when the first 4th came around. It was rough, Jack was used to the sounds of fireworks. To the point where he just ignored the flashbacks, but it was rough for the EOD tech. For the blonde who literally had to work on them things, the PTSD was awful. Bozer had called on the 3rd… Jack stayed until the 6th. Bozer made waffles and coffee. Jack would sleep in Mac's room, waiting for a nightmare. Reassure, Mac they're both alive, and then do it all over again. Thankfully, Bozer was smart to stay out of the way, but be close at the same time. He didn't get mad when Mac in a sleepy haze thought he was a bad guy. Didn't hold it against the blonde when he jumped him. Bozer was a miracle worker. 

"Hey, I know the basics, besides! I saved the guys life!"

"What did happen to him?" Riley asked.

"Mr. Punchface? Oh, he's moved to New York."

All eyes went to him. He shrugged, "He texts me every now and again."

Matty rolled her eyes, "Great. I'll send somebody to talk to him."

And the biggest part of knowing he was going to be okay, was sitting on the other side from him. Matilda Webber make seem like a hard-hearted woman, but under all those layers of anger and annoyance, she was a big softie. There were missions that Jack knows should've thrown him out, but she covered up. There are missions that, without Matty's help, would've caused WW3. She saved his butt more times than he can remember. 

Jack knows that Jim said he set this whole thing up. Putting Mac and him together in the Sandbox, but Jack knows better. Jack knows it had nothing to do with James Macgyver, the man who left his son, but had everything to do with Matty. Matty knew both of them. Knew that he needed a snarky, know-it-all, who didn't get intimidated by Jack's attitude or ego. Knew that after one life altering mission, Jack would protect this kid. His kid. 

Matty also knew that Mac needed somebody who would stay. Somebody who could match his snarky attitude and his lack of self-preservation. Somebody that wouldn't shut-up. Mac was quiet and a thinker. Jack was loud and a talker. By all standards they should hate each other. But by some luck the two would die for each other. 

Jack would die for any of these weirdos.

"Jack, your scaring me." Riley's voice wafts into his ear. Jack looks over to her, confused.

"I've never heard you be this quiet." She shrugs.

"Hey, I may not be a genius like  _ some _ people, but I can think too." 

"Well, share your thoughts." Matty said.

Jack opened his mouth, he was about to say something when a loud bang sounded far off. He caught the slight jump that Mac did. Jack smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. He stood up and walked over to his charge, his son. He placed a hand on his shoulder and steered him to the fire pit.

"Sit." Jack ordered, Mac sat down. Jack narrowed his eyes. They all had came back from a rather harsh mission. Medical checked them out. Cleared them all, Jack did his own analysis.

"Mac?" Jack asked, he knew everyone was watching them. Mac's blue eyes turned to him. Jack rolled his eyes. Mac looked like he was going to fall over. Which was very different from a couple of minutes ago when his hands were everywhere.

"The adrenalin finally wearing off?" The sun hadn't even set yet. The fireworks going off were still daylight, they some just had a loud bang. Mac had been busy all day, running on coffee and the last bit of adrenaline. Jack rolled his eyes, when Mac shrugged, his head already on Jack's shoulder, being supported. 

Jack simply wrapped an arm around Mac. Pulling him closer. By the time the louder fireworks went off, he'd wake up. Mac hasn't exactly liked loud noises, since he made it back. 

"Just talk normal. He's out." Jack told everyone. His hand finding Mac's head and running his fingers through them. 

"So, what were you thinking?" Matty asked, curious now. 

Jack smiled as a couple of fireworks went off, Mac flinched, but didn't wake, "What the 4th means to me."

"And?" Riley asked.

"And...well, I wouldn't be here without any of you, so I celebrate the 4th, because of you guys. Thank you."

He smiled when Matty rolled her eyes, but there was a smile. Riley smiled, Bozer came over to hand him a hotdog, and Mac was asleep. 

He was home. Because they were brave.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:  
> Okay, so this was going to be a one-shot... but there was a request from Luv2write who wanted a PTSD scene added to this. So, this is what I came up with. I apologize, if I didn't do it correctly... this is my first PTSD one-shot ever. I hope you enjoy it! 
> 
> 2 A/N:  
> Sorry for any and all inaccuracies of everything. For any grammer and spelling mistakes and for any OCCness. I don't own 'Macgyver' or any of its characters. 
> 
> ***side-note:  
> So, when Mac wakes up from his first nightmare/ PTSD... they were watching fireworks from the first chapter. The second time he wakes up from his nightmare/ PTSD its later that night.

Jack heard the scream before Riley or Bozer did. He was pretty sure he heard the scream coming even before it became vocal. He was just lucky that he had one too many and stayed the night. Riley got the guest room, Jack got the couch that was surprisingly comfortable. The fireworks had faded way before midnight and they all decided to hit the hay around 11:30. Mac had been drifting in and out of sleep most of the night. Only waking up to the loudest of the "Booms!" and "Bangs!" Then falling asleep during the loll between fireworks. Jack picked him up bridal style and put him to bed. 

Now it was 2:30 in the morning and Jack woke up to the sound of a scream of pain. By the sounds of it, it sounded as if he was burning. Writhing in pain that no longer was there. Jack picked himself off the couch and stumbled down the hallway. He heard both Riley's and Bozer's door open and Jack looked at them equally.

"Jack?" Bozer questioned. 

Before the former Delta could answer his partners roommates question, there was a strangled cry. Jack cringed and looked back at the other two kids. Letting out a breath of air he gave them a smile neither could see.

"Go back to bed. I'll take care of it."

********

_ Mac wiped his forehead with his sleeve, it was a lot hotter than they had anticipated. In his ear he could hear Jack talking about how his cousin ruined a family gathering by making a go kart out of the grill. Apparently, nobody knew how he did it, but… _

_ "Oh, boy did he get a skin' from Uncle Chuck!" Jack said. Mac could hear the grin. Mac shared the smile, then wiped his brow. The IED was almost disabled, but Mac felt like there was something he was missing. _

_ "Jack?" Mac asked. _

_ "Yeah, kid?"  _

_ Mac wanted to say more, but just then, a blast erupted. Not a deadly one, but loud and big enough that it knocked him out. He felt a blast of heat stronger than what he already felt. Something was wrong, but his mind just couldn't formulate it. Couldn't understand what it was.  _

_ ******** _

_ Groggily, Mac woke up. Taking inventory of his injuries was hard, most if not all of his body felt numb. Everything was blurry and there were voices. He flinched, but did nothing else. He heard a familiar sound off in the distance. He flinched again. The sounds of IEDs going off never made one comfortable, but for Mac it was like a knife to his heart. He was supposed to take those out. To keep people safe and he's failing. He must have caught the attention of the terrorists, because blue eyes were soon looking into brown ones. And they weren't the normal soft and warm, brown ones he sees from Jack. These were rough around the edges, seen so much death in his life, the ones Mac knew maybe his last ones to see.  _

_ Mac shakes his head when the man speaks. It's in a language he barely understands when his head is screwed on straight. But Mac knows he at least has a minor concussion. He can't focus on anything and he feels itchy. Like he needs to move. Mac swallows and blinks. It seems the man knows Mac doesn't understand. He smacks Mac. _

_ "You will build us a bomb!" The man's English is rusty. Mac shakes his head. _

_ "Then you will take it back to the base you came from!"  _

_ Mac shakes his head. He refuses to do that. He knows better than to do that, not only is that treason, but he has family that lives on that base. Most of the men don't like him, but that doesn't mean he wouldn't die for them. Besides, Jack's coming. Jack will get him out of here. He just needs to stay alive and help Jack the best he can.  _

_ "No." Mac affirms. _

_ The man gets into his face. The smell of goats, alcohol, and smoke roll off him and make Mac's stomach twist. Mac has to hold on. He can hold on. He flinches as a bomb goes off. He can't hear anything other than the bombs. They're loud and they're causing his head to pound a little worse.  _

_ "Then you will suffer the consequences." The man snarled.  _

_ Mac doesn't remember what made him scream first. The electric pulse running through his veins or the lashes against his back. He counts them, he causes himself to turn inward, go into a room of equations and science. He clings to anything that might just save him from the agony of torture. The lashes cut deep, it's metal and bone, that break his skin. They had given up on waterboarding hours ago… maybe days? He honestly doesn't know how long he's been here. He's broken. And in pain.  _

_ There's a loud clap- _

********

Mac jolts awake, Jack's arm squeezes him a little bit closer as his eyes look out to the sky. Thankfully, he didn't scream, but when he sees the fireworks light the sky, he understands what the explosions were in his nightmare. He takes a breath. He's tired. Worn out and just wants to sleep, he thinks they'll tamper out any minute. He hopes so. Then maybe he'll be able to sleep restfully. 

There is a loll, now fireworks are still brightening up the sky. He leans his head back on Jack's shoulder and finds that his eyes close on their own. He shifts and Jack's hold doesn't waiver. He actually pulls him in tighter. Mac feels the pull of sleep and once again the nightmares come again. 

********

_ "Do you think Patty will get mad at me if I went to the dentist for this?" Jack asks. He chipped a tooth when the baddie hit him with a steel pole. It was the baddie's fault that he ended up in a pile. Mac raised an eyebrow. Shook his head and ran to the device on the table. The timer was already running and Mac had enough time to stop it. Except. Nothing was working. He cursed under his breath.  _

**_No. No. NO._ ** _ Was all Mac could hear, could think. He swallowed and looked over at Jack.  _

_ "I-I can't stop it!" Mac exclaimed, slamming his fist onto the table. He was panicking. His head swam, one of the goons had gotten a good hit. Not good enough to knock him out, but enough so that everything was becoming dizzy and difficult. _

_ "Hey! Hey! HEY!" Jack shouted, coming up to him as he flipped his partner around. Anxious blue eyes roamed the room, before Jack pulled focus. Taking Mac's chin, and grabbing the kids attention. Mac's forehead was furrowed. Jack smiled.  _

_ "Mac, listen to me. Your okay, take a breath and think." Mac nodded and took a deep breath. He looked around. Reached into his pocket and ran to the missile. _

_ "Get out of here, Jack!" Mac yelled. _

_ "No. You know the rules!" Jack yelled as he came up, "Now save time by ignoring the argument and tell me what you need or want." _

_ Mac began to ramble. He didn't think he was being coherent, but Jack didn't stop him. Mac blinked and another explosion erupted. Shaking him. _

_ Was he too late? Did he just get himself  _ **_and_ ** _ Jack killed? If he was dead, how could he still feel pain?  _

_ His body was on autopilot and Mac felt hands on him. He flinched away.  _

_ "Mac! Mac!" _

_ "Get off! Get off!" He yelled. Another explosion and… _

********

Mac sat straight up. His forehead making contact with something hard and he flinched back. His body, still on autopilot, found itself tumbling out of his bed. Heavy breathing filling the once quiet room and blue eyes looking around the dark room. Shivering, Mac scrambled to a corner of his room. Knees close to his chest, head down. He was cold and sweating, he was having a panic attack and it took everything in him to try and level his breathing. He was shaking. He flinched when another image of a dream filtered through. He squeezed closer to the wall. 

"Mac?" 

Mac shook his head, but instead of leaving him alone, a heavy hand was placed on his shoulder. Mac shuddered, the hand didn't move. Mac heard somebody sit in front of him. He didn't dare look up. His breathing wasn't evening out, which was causing him to panic more. It didn't help that images of past missions both from the Sandbox and from Phoenix floated through his mind. He let out an agonizing scream as he pushed himself against the wall. 

"Hey, easy there kid. You don't have a lot of room." 

The voice which was oddly familiar, but couldn't be real because Mac literally just saw him  _ die,  _ was comforting. Mac shook his head. 

The voice was fake. Jack died.  _ Jack died _ .

"Kid, I need you to look up at me."

"Not real. Y-you died." 

The room was becoming claustrophobic with silence. Like somebody vacuumed the room and sucked out all the sounds. The hand didn't leave.

_ Not real. He died. I watched. He died and I did nothing. I tried to con- _

"I can hear you swimming in your thoughts, kid. I  _ need _ you to look at me." His voice was calm.

_ He-Jack- died- he-  _ The air Mac was taking in was choppy.

"Angus!"

Blue eyes darted up, before squinting. When did he turn on the light? No. The lamp. The lamp was casting a soft glow throughout the room. Mac looked and found himself looking in brown eyes and Mac flinched.

_ Harsh. Murderous. Needs a bomb. Not gonna make it. Jack's coming. Gotta hold on. Lashes. Electrocution. Bombs. Jack-Jack's not coming. Dead.  _

"Mac, look at me."

"G-ghost." Mac's voice was harsh, and he looked away. His breathing was still rough and uneven. His panic attack was full force. Mac felt a sudden wisp of annoyance, which was oddly comforting. Then he felt somebody take his hand. He tried to take it back, but the grip was stronger.

"Yeah, kid. I don't think a ghost could take your hand." The voice that sounded like Jack said. Mac looked up, and found that his hand was over somebody's, who looked a lot like Jack, heart. Mac looked up to see brown eyes. This time he saw kindness and worry, something only-

"J-jack?" Mac asked.

"That's right kid, I'm here. Not a ghost."

"Y-you died." 

"I'm still here." Jack's voice was full of reassurance. Mac blinked and looked away.

"Kid, look at me." 

Blue eyes found brown ones, once again. Jack gave a soft smile. Tears began to form and Mac wiped them away. Jack sat there, waiting. Mac watched and then realized that his breathing became normal. That the pace matched Jack's. Mac tried to pull away, but Jack stopped it. He kept a hold of Mac's hand.

"Not until you say it."

Mac blinked, "N-not dead." 

"Again." Mac squeezed his eyes shut, the last bit of nightmares and memories leaving the forefront of his mind.

"Not dead." This time with a bit more assurance.

"Again." Jack's voice was soft, but there.

"Not dead."

Jack finally let Mac's hand go and he moved to sit side-by-side with him. Mac found his head leaning against Jack's shoulder, he had uncurled himself as he repeated the words. Jack waited patiently, letting Mac relax a bit more. Jack didn't dare touch him, not yet anyway. When Jack looked down, he found his young partner's eyes closed. All the panic and tension fading from his face. Jack smiled, he himself took a breath.

"Want to tell me where you were?" Jack asked softly.

He felt his son flinch, but a mumbled answer escaped his lips, "Sandbox. Mission. Bomb."

Jack let out a jagged breath, "Ah, kid."

"Died." 

"Hey, now. You know the rules. You go ka boom, I go ka boom."

Mac tensed, "Kidnapped. Lashes."

Jack tensed too. That mission in the Sandbox was up there with Cairo. It was the first time Jack thought he'd lose Mac. When the terrorists kidnapped him, after the flash grenade, Jack spent days running on panic and coffee. No sleep until he had a location. When they finally found Mac, he was a bloody mess. Mac was so out of it from pain, he didn't even know if Jack was actually there to save him or kill him. Fighting Jack every step of the way, until the Doc's sedated him. 

Jack shivered from the memory of washing his hands 50 times and still feeling Mac's blood on his hands. Jack wouldn't leave medical until he knew his kid would make it. And even then he sat there. Watching the heart monitor. And when Mac finally opened his eyes, it took days to get him to feel comfortable around Jack again.

"Okay. Now." Mac murmured, his hand finding Jack's. Jack kissed the top of Mac's head, in a fatherly way, and the grip on Jack's hand was a little tighter. 

"I'll be here. Always." Jack whispered.

"Fireworks?" Mac hummed.

"Until next year." Jack answered.

Mac snuggled a bit deeper and Jack smiled. His kid made an incoherent noise and Jack snorted quietly. He took his other hand and ran it through Mac's hair. 

"Never. Wookie debt." Jack murmured and he found himself placing his head on top of Mac's and his eyes closing. 

This wasn't going to be a restful night, but Jack was gonna stay with his kid for as long as he needed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:  
> Okay this will be the last chapter for this story. Honestly, I was debating on adding this, but after a while I was like "What the heck, I'll just do it." So here it is. I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> 2 A/N:  
> Nope. I don't own 'Macgyver'

Bozer thinks he should be jealous. For years he had been the only one to have Mac's back. The one who helped Mac with anything, from running away from bullies to causing a neighborhood blackouts for Mac's science experiments. Having movie nights and being a strange teenager. Bozer thinks he should be jealous of Jack Dalton, all because it felt like Jack took his place. 

Then, then nights like tonight humbled him. They remind him that maybe Mac needed somebody like Jack, because unlike Jack, Bozer wasn't there. Was in the Sandbox. Didn't see the things that Mac saw. Didn't get to see the pain, blood, horror, and anything else the Sandbox brought onto the blonde. Wilt Bozer can say he had been there for Mac for years. By the blonde kids side since that fateful day where he was getting beat up. That all changed, however, when he had gotten word that Mac left for the Army and honestly Bozer started doing research for when Mac came back. What he didn't realize was… it was a lot more difficult than the internet let on. 

Bozer should be jealous. The thing was, he couldn't be more than grateful. 

Waking up and heading to Mac's room proved that, when he opened the door and found Jack's eyes lazily look up to his. Bozer was grateful. He was grateful for the older man who had his best friend laying on his leg, eyes closed. Grateful for Jack's hand that ran through the blonde scruff of hair.

"Waffles or pancakes?" He whispered.

Jack gave him a deadpan look, Bozer flinched.

"Right! Sorry!" He closed the door on his best friend's room. He patted down to the kitchen and started the coffee pot. The sun shone through the windows as he tried to make very little noise. This wasn't his visit rodeo. When it came to nightmares and PTSD, he tended to be more careful. After an episode, Mac was usually on edge. Like he expected danger. 

He was in the middle of whipping up the batter when he heard feet patter into the kitchen. Glancing at Riley, he gave her a smile. She nodded and grabbed a coffee mug. Neither one realized how high they were. When she managed to get one another one, that she wasn't expecting, came tumbling after. She wasn't fast enough to catch it. 

The mug landed on the wooden floor, shards of clay splattering everywhere. Bozer looked up when he heard a muffled thump. Both heads turned when they heard a shuffle. Two different distinct footsteps coming down the hall. Bozer was fully expecting Mac to come around the corner in full military mode. No recognition in his eyes and looking for a way out. Ready to defend himself and to attack. Bozer was so ready for it, he put himself in front of Riley.

"Don't move." Bozer ordered. 

Mac never came, instead there was a "Thud!" and a voice like Jack.

"Attention, Specialist!" Jack's voice reached into the kitchen. Bozer and Riley shared a look. 

"J-jack?" The voice that replied was rough and unsure. 

"Tell me where you are?" 

There was silence. Bozer motioned Riley to get the broom. They shouldn't be listening in on this. Never had he listened in on how Jack talked down Mac. It wasn't his business, just as long as Jack got his best friends head tied on straight. Riley must have had drawn the same conclusion, she followed suit not asking questions. Silently as they could, Bozer got the broom, being careful of where he walked and started cleaning up. Riley sat on the counter. Waiting. She blinked, watching the door way, but not hearing what was going on. 

Bozer soon had the mess cleaned up as he heard footsteps once more. However, they weren't headed to the room, but the back. Jack popped in. He looked at Bozer.

"Everything and everyone okay in here?" Jack asked.

"Yes." Riley and Bozer answered in unison.

"We'll be outside."

The duo nodded as Jack popped back outside. Riley looked and Bozer, sadness in her eyes. 

"I-I didn't-"

"Don't worry about it. Jack knows what he's doing." The chef went back into cooking. His eyes looking out the window. Mac had his head down and Jack had his hand on the back of his neck. The brunette was grounding the blonde. Making sure his brother in arms was keeping a level head. 

"Why don't you start on the bacon?"

"Okay."

Bozer and Riley began making breakfast in silence. Each one stealing glances to the outside. After about 50 minutes, the food was made. Riley glanced at her friend.

"Should we tell them?"

"Nah. I'll make them plates. We'll head outside put them beside the-"

"I'm sorry."

Riley and Bozer looked up and over. They hadn't even heard Mac come in. The look he gave mirror that of a golden retriever puppy. His eyes were heavy with memories. He looked like he hadn't slept. His hands were nonstop movement and he was slumping. Usually, Mac was stand up straight, shoulder's back. Blue eyes never staying in one spot too long. He looked ashamed and tired and drawn out. 

"It's all good." Bozer said. 

"You didn't do anything wrong, Mac." Riley put in her two cents. 

"I-I thought I was getting better." He replied, shuffling a bit.

Jack came into the kitchen, ignoring the three kids. He went straight for the coffee. Bozer and Riley looked at him confused. Riley lifted an eyebrow.

"I thought you said you didn't drink coffee?"

"I don't." "He doesn't." 

Bozer rolled his eyes, but smiles as he looks at Riley.

"Jack drinks tea though."

"Don't. It's soothing!"

"But caffeine."

"It does things to your brain." His eyes looked over at the blonde. Mac rolled his eyes, not getting into this argument that his friends started. He still seemed shy. Jack and Boze shared a look. Riley took her plate.

"I don't know about you three, but I'll be outside."

Mac went next and grabbed his food. He gave Boze a smile and then left to go outside. Boze waited a couple of minutes before looking at Jack. Jack eyed the window, then looked back at his best friend's roommate. Jack took a sip of his tea. 

"How bad?" Boze asked.

"Let's just say I'll probably stay until the 7th."

Boze paled, but nodded. Jack took his plate and went out. 

Wilt Bozer probably should be jealous of Jack Dalton. Jealous that he filled a hole that was in his best friends heart. Jealous that the man who was all brawn and a complete opposite of the Californian, took the role of protector. Jealous that the man could calm the blonde down enough that his friends weren't enemies. He should he jealous of the Texan. And maybe, if Bozer actually stopped and considered it, maybe he was jealous. He didn't dwell on the thought, because there was something both Jack Dalton and Wilt Bozer knew.

It was that the genius blonde that spent more time worrying about people than himself deserved the world. And if once a year, Bozer couldn't calm Mac down, and Jack could. Well that was fine by Bozer. 

Afterall some soldiers didn't get to come home. 

Bozer isn't jealous, because the former Delta made sure his best friend was one of the soldiers that did get to come home.


End file.
